


Isn't it a marvellous thing?

by deepwater_swimmer



Category: Hollywood (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, I know the tags make it seem heavy but it isn't alright, M/M, Nightmares, Panic Attacks, Past Sexual Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Acceptance, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, most of the things are only referenced/implied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:54:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23979319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deepwater_swimmer/pseuds/deepwater_swimmer
Summary: Roy neither means or wants to have nightmares hunting his nights. He just wishes to be okay and some nights, it doesn't feel like he will ever be. Tonight is one of these nights and so he just wishes for one thing to keep him sane. Archie feels like sanity.
Relationships: Rock Hudson/Archie Coleman, Roy Fitzgerald/Archie Coleman
Comments: 10
Kudos: 80





	Isn't it a marvellous thing?

**Author's Note:**

> Heyy, thanks for checking in! I'm gonna warn you once again that this work might be triggering because it deals with delicate matters, such as: sexual abuse, self harm (it's scratching but better safe than sorry), self-hatred/self-esteem issues, panic attack and ptsd.
> 
> I also have to warn that **there is the f slur** once. It's on the paragraph after the "No one should hate one’s body, but he hates his." and before the "Archie knows him". I'm going to put the paragraph between this *** if you want to skip it.
> 
> Now, this work was heavily influenced by the song 'everybody loves you' by Charlotte Lawrence, it's a beautiful music so if you get the chance, maybe you should check it out!
> 
> Now, let's go!

The dark stretches over Los Angeles. Not even the night is able to cool down the city completely, a lingering heat from the asphalt warming up the streets. The lucky houses near the coast are used to the soundly wind through their walls, the ocean breeze reaching through the magnificent countructions in Beverly.

Archie thinks about stars as he wakes up during the night. Actually, no. He is not thinking of the stars that light up the valley’s sky, he is wondering about the one star right beside him. It barely takes a second for Archie to realise he is the reason for being now awake. Roy was stirring in his sleep by his side, mumbling in denial, face scrunched up in what seemed like pain. Archie holds his face, whispering softly as he tries to wake him up. 

His eyes suddenly burst open in panic and the hands on him help nothing with the compression he feels in his heart. He backs away the maximum he can, back hitting the bed frame. Archie doesn't touch him again. 

“Baby, breath okay? You’re okay.” He doesn't feel okay. He isn't okay. He doesn't think he will ever be okay again.

He feels used. He feels hands on him that he can not push away, can not forget. His heart wants, longs to forget, his body can not. He is crying once again, tears keeping him from looking at Archie. From seeing Archie. Tears that leave him alone in a room filled with worship.

He wants to sleep, just that. Just sleep. Just forget. Just be okay.

He starts scratching any part of himself he can touch. Harder and more violent with each second. Archie worries when he sees the blood under his nails, the blood on his neck, the blood on his hands. There is nothing Archie can do for him and it's desperating, because he is trying and Roy can't listen. 

And suddenly, just like he started, he stops. He takes his hands off himself. He can't be touched. Can't be without going back. He dreads the feeling he gets from the parts he is being touched and he hates that there is nothing he can do.

He never hated his body before. Everyone has felt self conscious at least once in their life and he is no exception. But to hate his own body? That takes an amount of hurt one should never endure. He doesn't want to, but he hates his body. He hates how it has imprinted unwelcomed hands. How it feels phantom touches in random times. How it grips to the memories of abuse and violation. How it mistakes affection for danger and he is back there again. How it makes him feel undignified. How it makes him feel worthless. How it holds on to the feeling of unworthiness. How it can't forget. No one should hate one’s body, but he hates his.

***

He hasn't told Archie. _“Fags like us have to hide.”_ He is not a fag and he is not hiding. He is gay and he is proud. He came out on the Oscars’ red carpet. He held the hand of the love of his life on the most important red carpet of his world and he doesn't regret one bit. He can hear sweet nothings trying desperately to reach him through the panic fog.

***

Archie knows him. Archie knows he couldn't be touched after the forced moments in that doomful office. Archie knows he couldn't sleep after it. Archie probably doesn't know he would feel the monster’s eyes on him, watching every step, every breath he took. Archie doesn't know sometimes he can still feel the eyes hovering over them as they love each other with every tiny motion they make. Archie doesn't know it's very likely he will forever feel paranoid, he will forever feel watched. 

He is talking before he can stop it. He is talking because there are no more tears for today. He is talking because he has a voice. He is talking because he is angry and he is scared and he is in love and he has a voice. “Sometimes I wish I never stepped into this city. But then I remember that if I hadn't, I wouldn't have met you and I couldn't bear that.”

It is true. He does wish he hadn't stepped into this city sometimes. Maybe if he hadn't stepped here, he wouldn't have gone through that. He wouldn't have met him. He wouldn't have to occasionally meet his eyes as he walks through the studio. He wouldn't hate his body. He wouldn't hate himself. He wouldn't hate how he still has to get up and deal with the possibility of seeing him again during a project. He wouldn't have to be kind to people that push his limits, even if they don't realise it, even if he had it much much worse, because even if he isn't the one he used to be, he still has enough kindness within to cover up for all the meanness this city carries. 

He doesn't resent his friends for not pushing him away. He doesn't resent taking his chance. He doesn't resent having a dream and going after it. He does resent people, monstrous, cruel people. He knows the difference between being lost and being cruel. He knows he now feels lost. He knows he will never be cruel. He knows that kindness isn't naivety. He knows he is kind, because he is virtuous. He knows he is kind, because there is always a chance to be so. He knows he isn't naive. " _I’ll destroy you."_ He is not naive. He is not naive. He is not naive.

He repeats it as a mantra, not minding if he is actually saying out loud, because at the moment he hates his mind as well. He hates his mind for repeating harsh words. For making him hear his voice. For making him feel stupid. _“A pretty face.”_ He is not only a pretty face. He is not only a pretty face and he is not naive.

“No, you are so smart, Roy. You are so smart.”

He listens this time. He listens this time and he takes to his heart. He embraces it. He cherishes it. He ignores the voice, mean mean voice, that insists he knows it isn't true, even if he can do this only for a second. He holds the hand by his side. He lets it be kissed and he lets himself be cherished. He lets himself be cherished, because he deserves it. Because he is alive. Because his heart is beating and screaming to be loved and to live and to cherish life like it used too, and now he doesn't have any strength to fight its desire.

“I love you, Roy. Okay? I love you so much and everything will be alright?”

He doesn't fear heartbreak, because to feel such a thing it means you've felt love. You've been loved and you have loved. You have given a part of you to someone else simply for the way their heartbeat made breathing worthy. You have felt the sense of belonging filling up your body as you hear three simple words mumbled through the minimal actions of someone. 

For now, he holds on to the sheer adoration dripping from each touch, from each word they exchange. For now, he holds on to the love that fills his lungs every time he breathes. For now, he holds on to Archie, because he makes him feel safe, makes him feel worthy.

No.

He wasn't safe or worthy because of Archie. He isn't worthy because of love. He is worthy because he is human. He is safe because he is fighting. Humanity makes him worthy of life. Fighting, even when he feels like he can't, makes him safe. Love didn't make him any of these things, just made he see the strength within when everything else is blinding.

Love wouldn't save his life. Love would only make him see why he keeps living. And if heartbreak comes one day, he won't fall apart for there is still love within him, because at this sacred quiet moment he promises himself he will learn to love himself again. And so he will always be loved.

Oh, isn't love the most marvellous thing a human can feel?

**Author's Note:**

> First of all, I want to say thanks for reading! I wrote this one very quickly on a burst of inspiration and I'm actually very proud of how it came out. 
> 
> Second, I hope everyone liked it as much as I did. I do have other works so if you feel like it, you can check it out!
> 
> Once again, thank you very much for reading! Stay hydrated and stay safe!


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